Saving Water and other Bad Excuses
by Bamfderson
Summary: Sebastian, Kurt, Rachel and Santana living together in NY. Rachel comes up with an… interesting way for the boys to save money..
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just a little something that wouldn't leave my mind! I'd love some reviews on this one- it should be a three parter :) **

* * *

MEETING TONIGHT!

The words are huge, capitalized, and sparkling. Sebastian gives it a sneer, rolling his eyes once, before pouring the still warm coffee into the mug resting for him on the surface of the small kitchen. He leans back against the surface, avoiding the splintering edge that lost against Santana's rage last week, and gazes around as he takes a sip, the liquid scorching his tongue but jolting him more awake. The apartment is tiny, smaller than he ever thought his living conditions would be. He's pretty sure that their entire kitchen and lounge would fit four times into the choir room at Dalton, and the sofas pushed tightly into corners only serve to make the space look smaller.

That said, Kurt's managed to work his magic on the place; the first day they moved in they had all stood shocked, staring at the peeling walls, the dripping water, and the old fridge left sideways in the middle of the floor. It had taken a week or so for them to get it in good condition, and Sebastian and Santana had had the terrible task of shifting the stinking hunk of metal down the stairs and out of the apartment door, ignoring the ominous red liquid dripping slowly out of the die of it whenever they accidently banged it against a wall. Five floors had been torture; their arms aching and their lungs burning as they maneuvered the thing around corners. When they had finally made it back up to the apartment they had both sighed heavily at the sight of Rachel with two tall glasses of iced pink lemonade and a smile, and taken the glasses without comment. Kurt had been lost in thought, staring at the walls and wondering whether to keep the vibrant yellow or go for a softer magnolia.

Sebastian didn't understand why he had done it. Why he, Sebastian Smythe, had agreed to move in with possibly the craziest people he had ever met, to share a miniscule apartment in New York. He had decided that moving there would be a fresh start; a way to escape the many mistakes of his past, but he found himself basically dragging his history along with him, in the form of two very irritating girls and one sarcastic bastard who looked like he wanted to shoot Sebastian fifty percent of the time.

Of course, living with them wasn't _that _bad. Santana had the habit of cleaning excessively when she was pissed in order to fight back the urge to punch someone else in the mouth, which meant that despite the space, there was a very small amount of clutter. Rachel sung at the top of her lungs most nights, but she had a knack for cooking huge, sumptuous meals that filled the apartment with smells of home and delicious warmth. Kurt was a different story. He had spent weeks not speaking to Sebastian, flitting around painting stripes onto walls and assembling swatches of colour everywhere he looked. Eventually his odd silence had morphed into a quiet 'good morning', and now they had reached the point that before Kurt left for class in the morning he always left a mug on the side with the coffee already brewed for Sebastian, knowing that he would be the next to wake. Things with Kurt were rocky, at best, but Sebastian felt they had a strange kind of friendship, constantly shooting glances at each other when Rachel said something particularly ridiculous, and exchanging looks of exasperation when the girls started blazing rows with each other, so loud that the young couple living below hammered on the ceiling with a mop for some peace and quiet.

Kurt has apparently decided that this day is a day in which they are friends. There is a yellow post-it stuck to the counter, unnoticed by Sebastian as it was previously hidden by the cup. In Kurt's lilting handwriting is a quick, hurried note, obviously scribbled before he had rushed out of the apartment smelling of hairspray and straightening his navy coat.

_I don't know what the hell Rachel's playing at- text me when you find out. –K_

He crumples up the note and tucks it into his pocket, grabbing the first glittering note as he does. Santana's reaction to both notes won't be pretty, and he can't deal with the meltdown before he has to get to class.

"Coffee." Speak of the devil. Santana wanders out of her room, a flash of burnt umber wallpaper peeking through as the bright red door swings to a close behind her. It had been her idea; to have the doors a different colour, and when Kurt had eventually agreed they had all decided that it had been a good decision, looking back. Santana's was a bright, glossy red, shining in the morning sunlight and marred only by a black 'S' nailed onto the middle of it. Rachel's was next to hers, the door white with a large poster of Rachel on it, framed with a wide pink border. Rachel hadn't thought the idea of having her own face on the door through, and hardly a week went by in which Santana or Sebastian hadn't taped a moustache or horns to the image. The girls' doors faced the kitchen, directly in front of Sebastian as he watches Santana cross the expanse of lounge between himself and the red door.

"Coffee."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard ya." He quickly pours her a cup and places it on the faded table, the soft clunk of it loud in the quiet of the morning. She sinks into the chair, dark hair spilling across her shoulders as she slumps down, and Sebastian watches her, waiting until she is more awake before he breaks it to her. She takes three large gulps, hands gripping the cup as she blinks fully awake, and Sebastian takes a deep breath.

"Rachel's called a meeting," He croaks, voice still soft from sleep. "Any idea what about?"

"Fuck if I know, meerkat, she probably wants to paint the fucking hallway pink or something." Santana always swore in the mornings. And when she was drunk. Or angry. Or turned on (which they had all sadly found out when she had brought back the leggy redhead that one night several weeks ago).

He huffs a laugh and turns to the toaster, stomach suddenly churning with hunger. He slipped his phone into the waistband of his pajamas when he woke up, so he sends off a quick text to Kurt.

_Don't know what's going on and neither does San. Can you track down Rachel and figure it out? –S_

He has to wait a couple of minutes for the answer, probably until the coast is clear for Kurt to text –and that's an entertaining thought, Kurt texting under the desk like a guilty schoolboy- and when it arrives, it's as blunt as he expected.

_No –K_

"Kurt doesn't know what she wants either."

"Well, fuck." She sounds as sarcastic as him on a bad day, and he suddenly remembers that she was out drinking the night before; it probably feels as if wildebeest are stampeding around in her head.

There's a pause. Sebastian wonders how delicate she's feeling, how to phrase the next question.

"…Santana?" She sees through his 'nice' tone instantly, and her reply is like acid slicing through the air as her tone drops and her eyes focus and narrow, meeting his with a suspicious glare.

"What."

"You could find out."

"No." She turns back to her coffee, drumming a rhythm against it with one manicured fingertip.  
"Aren't you having lunch with her today?"

"Yes."

"So…"

"No."

Sebastian sighs and leaves her to it, wandering out of the kitchen and into his room and fighting the dread in his stomach. Rachel calls meetings for any old thing, to try and promote 'unity in the apartment', but for some reason this one seems important. Rachel has been glancing at him strangely for the last week, a funny smile on her face as she followed his every move. Maybe she would ask him to leave; it wasn't as if he brought a great sense of unity to the small group as it was, and only Santana really understood how to get around him when she wanted something. He was hell to live with; stubborn, quiet and sharp-tongued, and he couldn't quite bring it in himself to blame them if they felt that the space was better with three. He dresses quickly before moving to the bathroom to brush his teeth, passing Kurt's door as he does, directly next to his own. It's the only one that is faded, a chipped pale blue that reflects the light back into the room. It's a contrast, of course, to Sebastian's; deep green and plastered in post-its and crude drunken drawings (courtesy of Santana and, on occasion, Rachel). Kurt's is clean, free of any marks, and always, always, closed.

As he leaves the apartment he notices Santana staggering back to her bedroom, black nightshirt riding up as she steps around the furniture, coffee still clasped in one hand.

* * *

"Sebastian, could you come in here for a minute?" Rachel's voice is as loud as ever, louder, perhaps, after lessons in projection at NYADA. He perches the book he was reading on top of a stack resting precariously on his desk, and stands, avoiding the pile of laundry on the floor that he's been meaning to wash and wandering into the lounge. Rachel is standing facing his door, arms crossed and a large smile stretched across her face. It's too wide; a little terrifying, and she points for him to sit on the couch in front of her with Kurt and Santana. Santana's recovered, by the looks of it; she's gesturing silently to Rachel and shifting to the side, a smirk pulling at her lips as she makes the gap between herself and Kurt wider, a clear sign for Sebastian to fold himself into the space between. He tucks his legs beneath him, careful not to let his knees bump Kurt's, and stares up at Rachel, ready for this 'meeting' to be over.

"Okay, now we're all here, I think that there's something we need to talk about. You see, I received the latest bill today- well, technically we did but as I wake up several hours before all of you I got it because I'm not lazy like _some _people-" This was accompanied by a dark glare at Santana, who merely shrugged and smiled up at the other girl. "But the issue is that it's very high. Too high. And now that both Kurt _and _Sebastian have taken to showering every single day as now you have something to do with your lives rather than play games and lie in piles of _filth-"_

"That's Seb, not me."

"Whatever. Anyway, we need to cut down on bills. Drastically."

Sebastian's heart sinks. This is it. This is the end of his brief period of friendship and comfort. He'll have to find another apartment, find more people to talk to, find someone else who he can complain to in the morning, and then another who sings too loud and makes a mean moussaka, and one who will leave post-its under cups just because he can and write late into the night and share exasperated looks with him. Sebastian looks around to see if any of them are looking at him, having come to the same conclusion, but they aren't. Santana still has a huge smile on her face, clacking her nails together as she fiddles with her hands. Kurt looks confused, blue eyes dark with concern as he probably thinks exactly what Sebastian is; that one has to go.

"So Santana and I had an idea- and it concerns all of us, but mostly you two." At this Kurt frowns, cocking his head to the side. Sebastian wonders what Rachel is getting at; is she kicking both of the boys out?

"So… to cut down on water, we've decided that the best idea to save is to share."

There is silence in the room for several seconds, and Sebastian is sure he sees Santana nod excitedly out of the corner of his eye. It is Kurt who breaks it, his voice ringing out.

"I'm sorry- share _what_, exactly?" He sounds scandalized, clearly not wanting to leap to the same conclusion as Sebastian and Santana apparently have, and Sebastian suddenly remembers the Kurt of high school, blushing and innocent.

Sebastian is sure that Santana's shoulders are shaking with quiet laughter now as Kurt tries to put together the pieces and figure out what Rachel is talking about.

"And because we're girls, Santana and I have decided that we'll share, and that means you two-"

"Wait, wait- no. No!" Kurt is shaking his head, mouth open in horror, and Sebastian feels a stab of hurt before he realizes that he should be mad too, and chips in with some logic.

"Wait a second- three of us are gay, surely it'd be easier to put me and Santana and you and Kurt-"

"No, I'm sharing with Santana." She's not budging, and the look on her face shows that she isn't going to.

"O-kay?"

"Okay."

"Wait, you can't actually be serious Rachel- you want us to share- to share…"

"Showers."

Santana cracks a smile that is pure evil.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for the reviews and follows! Sorry this part took longer, hopefully you'll like it? Carries straight on from the last chapter :)

* * *

Sebastian chances a look at Kurt. The other man is still frozen in shock, glaring up at Rachel and curling his hands into the white fluffy blanket that one of them had slung over the back of the couch at some point.

"Rachel, what the fu-"

"End of discussion, Kurt, now I'm going to bed- I have a long day tomorrow and I've already eaten dinner so goodnight to you all and I hope that you'll follow the new rule for the apartment in the most mature way possible." With this Rachel nods once, beams at them both and strolls back to her room, pink skirt swishing behind her as she flicks her hair once, waves, and disappears behind the door. Kurt and Sebastian stare after her, gaping at the girl as she crosses the room.

"Come on boys, I'm sure you can understand her reasons. Look at it this way; at least you won't be treated to a weepy rendition of the entire soundtrack of Wicked for twenty minutes every morning like I will." Santana sounds smug for some reason, trademark smirk across her face as usual. She waves at them before padding across the floor to Rachel's door, not bothering to tap out a knock before letting herself in.

"…She's not serious. She can't be." Kurt's voice is weak, quiet. His hands twist together in his lap, seemingly a display of nervousness but also possibly to hold back the urge to slap someone. His jaw is clenched in anger and annoyance; a look that Sebastian has often seen on Kurt's face when it comes to Rachel.

"Oh she was. Did you see her face? She was serious." Sebastian is still stunned, staring at the door he can hear muffled voices behind.

"I am not showering with you." He scoffs, turning to Kurt when he hears the high voice and unable to contain the bite in his voice when he replies.

"Do you seriously think I want to shower with _you_?!" Sebastian winces as he speaks, aware of the way Kurt flinches back slightly in reaction to the tone of his voice. The apartment is quiet for a second, the girls' voices now mysteriously silent, and it is Kurt who breaks it, voice stronger now.

"It's not happening. It just isn't."

"Agreed. They can get their 'lady kisses' on in the shower all they want, I am not getting traumatized just to save some money."

"You would _not_ be traumatized, for God's sake, I'm not that- wait," Kurt's head flicks around as he registers what Sebastian said. "What? Santana and- what?"

"Never mind sweetheart, I wouldn't expect your virginal mind to understand."

"Yeah, because I'm a- you know what, I am not having this conversation right now. I'm going to bed-"

"Before I come up with another clever idea to get us killed?"

The glare Kurt sends him is magnificent; blue eyes blazing as they meet Sebastian's own. He finally turns, tilts his chin up, and storms back to his room, the door crashing shut behind him. Sebastian can't resist the urge to yell after him.

"Because I'd prefer expelled, personally!"

* * *

When Sebastian wakes up, blinking and cranky, the next morning, it isn't his doorway that is looming at the foot of his bed at him, but rather a petite brunette, her arms crossed and her hair a tangled soaking mess.

"I know what you're planning, Smythe."

"I'm- _huh? _Rachel, what the fuck; what time is it?"

"7.30. And I know what you're up to- you have to help us with the bills, and I am not letting you get away with sneaking off to shower on your own."

"Rach, I don't get up until 8.30- why the fuck are you in here?"

At this she smiles and unfolds her arms, placing them heavily on her hips as her smile grows wider and infinitesimally more terrifying. "Because Kurt's already up."

"…So?" His mind is foggy with sleep, thoughts taking longer to catch up as he wonders why it is quite so important to Rachel (or him) that Kurt has woken up. Kurt gets up most days at a ridiculous hour, normally taking more time than Rachel to ensure that he doesn't wake the whole apartment, whereas Rachel tends to clatter around loudly, spending thirty minutes on the large and noisy treadmill that she convinced her Dads to transport to her room in New York. Of course Kurt is awake; if the sun is up, so is he. But to Sebastian at this point it doesn't seem too important.

"He needs to shower. And if he does, you do." Sebastian suddenly remembers; the conversation, Santana's smiles, and the look of barely concealed horror on Kurt's face the night before. He blinks his eyes open fully, trying to clear the fuzziness from his head, and looks at Rachel, taking in the water dripping onto the carpet and the fluorescent pink robe tied tightly around her.

"And I suppose you're going along with your ridiculous plan then, judging by the look of you." He can't imagine Rachel and Santana in the shower together; doesn't want to, as the image of Berry naked would surely be burned into his mind as some kind of horrific trauma for the rest of his life, but it must have happened; when it comes to rules, Rachel follows them strictly.

"Obviously." She looks kind of pleased at this, a smirk lingering at the corner of his mouth, but it is too early for Sebastian to start analyzing facial expressions. "Santana and I are clearly much more mature and therefore superior in yet another way to you and Kurt. Now get up-"

"Rachel,"

"-because Kurt's selecting towels as we speak-"

"Rachel,"

"-and he's not going to wait for you to be fully awake before he get in so-"

"Rachel. Get. OUT." At this he gets a dirty look, and Rachel turns, flicking cold water over his face as she executes one of her famous 'diva-outs'. The door is left open behind her, the cool morning air tingling at the exposed skin of his chest, not quite covered by his sheets, and he lets out a loud sigh before swinging his feet over the side of the bed and pushing them into faded green slippers.

When he manages to make it to his door and open it he ends up inadvertently staring directly into blue eyes.

Very angry blue eyes.

"Please tell me you told Rachel where to shove her ridiculous idea." Kurt snaps, clutching a large fluffy towel under one arm and a bottle of shampoo in his hand. He's clad in a maroon robe, sky blue pyjamas peeking through from underneath, and is glaring through the doorway. Sebastian heaves a sigh and speaks, eyeing Kurt's scruffy bed hair as he tries to calm the other man down.

"Listen, this will be a whole lot easier if we just do it. Jump in, jump out, face away- it's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal! I don't want to _shower _with you, Sebastian!" Kurt says, face reddening as he reaches to smooth down several flicks of unruly hair, clearly having noticed Sebastian's stare.

"Do _you_ want to deal with Rachel and Santana?" Sebastian's voice is resigned as he leans against the door, shoulder bumping into the solid doorframe as he stares back. Kurt chews on his lip for a moment and then rolls his eyes, muttering a quick "come on then" and storming in the direction of the bathroom. Sebastian follows swiftly, scooping his clean grey towel off the back of the door and slamming it shut behind him.

_This should be interesting._

* * *

When he reaches the bathroom Kurt is standing in the centre of the room, looking around nervously. Sebastian notices his expression shift to anger, and then resignation as he sees Sebastian enter the room, clearly having hoped that he would chicken out and leave Kurt to his own shower. It would probably be the right thing to do, Sebastian thinks- to leave Kurt to his own devices and take the brunt of Santana's anger himself. However, he is more selfish than that; and a little voice in his head keeps reminding him that _Kurt _could just as easily do the same thing, if this bothers him so much.

Sebastian isn't the one with a problem here. If Kurt's uncomfortable with the situation, he can face up to the anger of the girls. Sebastian shouldn't have to deal with it.

With this thought he begins to strip, pulling his faded tee over his head and throwing it into the beginnings of a small pile on the tiled floor, his socks following as he toes them off. He pretends not to notice the squeak that escapes Kurt's mouth as his bare torso is exposed to the cool morning air. The turn, however, is something he can't ignore.

"What's up?"

Kurt is facing the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and hi clothes still very much on. Sebastian's sweatpants that double up as pyjamas are already a centimeter or so down, his thumbs tucked into the top and hooked under, ready to get this whole experience over with as quickly as possible. It could be that Kurt is just being polite, of course, but something about the way his shoulders are slumped makes Sebastian pause, pulling his pants back up until they are securely over his hips and takes a step towards Kurt.

"I just- could you turn around and just not look, or something? I can't deal with your snide comments right now and I just- I need to get to class." Kurt's voice is quiet but firm, not a waver in it as he addresses the wall in front of him and lets his voice echo around their tiny bathroom. Sebastian pushes down the wall of angry defensiveness he feels in his chest and chooses to nod instead, knowing that Kurt can't see him but turning anyway, the noise of his shuffling feet seeming suddenly loud in the silence between them. The tension, the awkwardness, is heavy in the air as they quietly strip, Kurt's clothes neatly folded over a towel bar that Rachel put there at the beginning of the year, and Sebastian's small pile of clothes growing as he sheds the remainder of his clothes. Eventually they are both naked, only a couple of inches separating their bare backs as they each face opposite walls. They look stupid, Sebastian knows; too afraid to even take one step toward the shower in case they accidentally catch a glimpse of each other or _god forbid _one of their hands brushes somewhere it shouldn't.

He secretly thinks to himself he doesn't really mind the idea of Kurt naked in the room with him; they're as close to friends as Sebastian has ever been with anyone, and it's not like Kurt's exactly painful to look at. In fact, there have been days where Sebastian's attention has been caught by his profile or his long legs or his strong arms, and he's had to drag his eyes away and onto something more appropriate. Even now, the mere knowledge that Kurt is there, so close and so very naked, feels like a buzzing in the air, electricity charging between them and crackling in the air around them, connecting them. Kurt is shivering as they stand, which is probably everything to do with the cold and nothing whatsoever to do with this new tentative and vulnerable state they are in, but Sebastian allows himself to dream for a moment before he takes the necessary step to the side and shuts on the water, hearing Kurt jump as the sound of rushing water fills the room.

"Shall we get in before we end up standing here all day?"

"Sure."

The step into the shower is a quick one, sideways and back, so that Sebastian can feel Kurt's shoulders brush against his when they are finally under the spray. His skin is tingling, stinging with the proximity, and he has to remind himself of the time he walked in on Santana waxing in order to clear his mind and calm his body, which is definitely not co-operating with him right now. His hands are mechanical as he snags a red bottle from the shelf on the wall, massaging foam into his hair and trying to bend his body away from Kurt as he scrubs. The water is raining down, too hot and too much pressure for him, but Kurt hasn't made a sound so he decides to bear it for the time being. He vaguely notices Kurt's elbows out of the corner of his eye, rising as he too tries to wash his hair as quickly as possible, and Sebastian fights back a shiver as he takes a peek back, over his shoulder. Kurt's hands are threaded into his hair, long fingers working through thick strands as he tries to rid it of the expensive purple gunk he uses.

Sebastian allows his eyes to trail over the line of Kurt's neck, the droplets of water running down pale skin and across broad shoulders. Kurt's back is toned, flawless in comparison to the map of freckles that stretches across Sebastian's, and is still so blindingly _close._ Sebastian feels like he can feel the heat of Kurt's body emanating across the small space, even though he knows that it is impossible; the heat of the water and the inches between them are warping his judgement of the connection between them. He forces himself to shake his head, shaking off the sudden desperate urge to reach out to the man behind him, run hands over his shoulders and his hips and the soft skin that dimples at his lower back-

All of this is not good.

Kurt begins to massage shower gel into his arms and chest, a faint smell of cherries and something else filling the small space and becoming almost overpowering with the lightheadedness brought on by the thick steam.

This is definitely not good.


End file.
